


One Night in Lothlórien

by LeastExpected_Archivist



Category: The Lord of the Rings - All Media Types
Genre: F/F, First Time, Multi, Multiple Partners
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2002-02-04
Updated: 2002-02-04
Packaged: 2021-03-06 14:21:20
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,266
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26200300
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LeastExpected_Archivist/pseuds/LeastExpected_Archivist
Summary: An Elf-maiden happily loses her innocence to the Lady and Lord of Lórien.
Relationships: Celeborn/Galadriel | Artanis/Original Female Character(s)
Kudos: 3
Collections: Least Expected





	One Night in Lothlórien

**Author's Note:**

> Note from Amy Fortuna, the archivist: this story was originally archived at [Least Expected](http://fanlore.org/wiki/Least_Expected), which has been offline since 2002. To preserve the archive, I began manually importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in August 2017. I e-mailed all creators about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact me using the e-mail address on the [Least Expected collection profile](https://archiveofourown.org/collections/leastexpected/profile).
> 
> Disclaimer: I claim no ownership to the copyright or estate of J.R.R. Tolkien and will make no monetary profit from the use of his characters.  
> Feedback:  
> Story Notes: Blame it on Catholic School ^-^

In the heart of summer, the Golden Wood slumbered, breathless and silent under the night sky, deep silver and azure and aglow with the light of the crescent moon.

Near the banks of the river, a young elf-maiden lay watching the stars of summer wheel overhead in the sultry night. Listless and filled with longing, the girl freed herself from the silken shift she wore and slipped into the river, her movements quick and agile. She came here often, seeking the solace of the river to wash the longing from her, the cold empty craving for what she could not have. Galadriel, the ephemeral candle, the untouchable one...

She climbed from the water, which had not cooled her inner fire nor assuaged the thirst that would never be met. When Galadriel looked upon her she saw only a loyal handmaiden. Why would she see anything else, with Lord Celeborn always at her side, the essence of masculinity, who could fulfill her every desire with a touch or a word...

She flung her wet hair behind her, and lay on the warm grass again. Many would be awake this night, laughing, singing, loving. There was only one she wanted to touch, the one she could never touch, like the moon forever out of reach. She closed her eyes, letting the comfort of dreams lull her, imagining beloved Galadriel's face between her hands, the softest kiss they would share, until excitement and need grew. The very thought made her gasp slightly, it would never be...

Her hair soon dried in the warm air, spread out beneath her like a red fan. Restlessly she shifted on the grass, aching at the images in her mind.

Reverie was shattered as she felt the eyes of another upon her, and she sat up, bristling, reaching for her clothing, the hammering of her own pulse matching the cadence of the river. She clutched her shift to herself, waiting.  
Her heart slammed against her ribs as Galadriel emerged from among the trees, her golden hair lifted by the slight breeze, her eyes shining in the semi-darkness.

"My Lady," said Bronwen automatically, kneeling, assuming naturally her role as handmaiden which came easily as the act of breathing. When she was given permission to rise Galadriel was before her. Bronwen felt herself penetrated by that gaze, every secret thought and desire laid bare. There was a sweet rush of warmth to her nether regions. Bronwen hoped in vain that Galadriel could not see the way she trembled. Perhaps she would mistake it for fear, and not desire.

Galadriel moved imperceptibly closer. "It is a lovely evening."

"Aye, my Lady, a lovely evening," Bronwen echoed. "There is no place like the river on a night like this."

"Especially when one is not alone," Galadriel purred knowingly. Bronwen's eyes grew wide.

"You are ever alone, Bronwen, except when in my service," Galadriel went on. "You are far too young and beautiful to isolate yourself so. Your heart is true, and full of love, would you not like to share it with another?"

"Yes," Bronwen answered breathlessly, desire overriding apprehension, pushing aside social station, washing away doubt. "With you..."

Bronwen's dress slithered from her fingers to the grass. Boldly she took the Lady's face between her hands as she had dreamt of only moments ago, and kissed her, Galadriel's bottom lip caught between both of hers. Bronwen's heart soared as she met no resistance, feeling instead the glorious sensation of Galadriel's fingertips on her shoulders, leaving trails of fire where they passed.

Bronwen's lips moved to the Lady's ear, her fingers moving aside Galadriel's silken hair.

"I love thee," she breathed into Galadriel's ear. "Let me pleasure thee, taste thee, serve thee with gladness." Every movement of Bronwen's lips brushed the Lady's ear in a soft massage. Galadriel's eyes slowly closed as Bronwen's warm breath and the sweet declarations of love in her ear made her ache, sharpening her own needs. She, too, had nurtured secret desires for the maiden whose eyes followed her everywhere, anticipating her every whim. Bronwen's hands moved, deftly unfastening the rich garment the Lady wore and lifting it away to reveal perfect alabaster flesh, waiting to be caressed in ways it never had before.  
Bronwen's hands moved over the object of her lust with wild abandon now, and she drew the Lady down to the grass. The passage of time lost all meaning as Bronwen's fingers and tongue in perfect marriage explored, and the leaves of the Mallorn sighed overhead as if in envy as Bronwen's mouth closed hungrily on one perfect white breast, licking and softly sucking as her hands moved through Galadriel's hair and over her taut back, tracing the curves of her body.

Galadriel arched her back like a cat waiting to be petted as Bronwen's hand found the point of her greatest pleasure. Slowly her fingertips danced, at first gently brushing, then in a more urgent massage, Bronwen's tongue wriggling madly on a hard and aching nipple still. Galadriel gave a sharp cry as Bronwen's hand sped up, clutching at Bronwen's red hair, her head thrown back, mouth slightly open. Bronwen lifted her head only long enough to gaze at the sight of Galadriel's face at this moment, which would forever be burned into her memory. Her fingers moved faster still, until the rhythym was perfect and Galadriel was gasping softly.

Bronwen could wait no longer, unfastening her mouth from the Lady's breast, sliding down. Gently she parted Galadriel's thighs with one hand and plunged her hard tongue deep inside, like a bird gathering the sweetest nectar. Bronwen opened her slightly more with her fingers, dragging her tongue willfully around the nether lips until Galadriel was in a frenzy, grabbing at Bronwen's hair, demanding more. Bronwen slipped a finger in with deliberate slowness, and never had she felt such softness. Tongue and finger together tasted wet sweet velvet as Galadriel gave way and opened completely to her, and the tip of Bronwen's tongue danced then across the point of pleasure so that Galadriel cried out, until Bronwen sucked this softest of all petals between her teeth gently moving up and down, finger thrusting deeply until Galadriel crumbled with a shrill cry and Bronwen tasted the wine of love at last. A nightbird called out in return, answering the Lady, who lay spent on the grass, her chest heaving. Bronwen lifted herself, gazing in rapture, and moved back to Galadriel's side, cradling the Lady in her arms, caressing her hair, letting her taste herself in Bronwen's kiss. They kissed with hunger now, now that all the walls had fallen and there was no longer any reason to hide, the soft sucking sounds of their kissing drowning out even the sound of the river for Bronwen, except the steady pounding of her heart. Their tongues writhed together, and Bronwen caressed the Lady's inner thigh, still damp from love.

"I love you," Bronwen whispered hoarsely.

"As do I," came a deep voice from very near. Bronwen stifled a scream.

"Lord Celeborn," she managed to get out, her throat closing, her voice out of reach. She would be sent away now, he would be angry. Galadriel, what would happen to Galadriel...

Galadriel was smiling enigmatically. Celeborn had been watching, all along. Bronwen looked from one to the other.

"That was quite lovely," he said. "You gave her great pleasure. Now we shall share in the delightful task of taking her to even greater heights." He offered Bronwen his hand, and she took it with great trepidation. Was this some sort of trick? She stared at him, mystified, then rose.

He bent, and whispered something in her ear. She nodded obediently, her breathing staccato as his lips lingered. He slipped off his robes, enjoying the look on her face. Obviously he had been more than a little aroused, watching another woman making love to his wife. He had wanted it as much as Bronwen had, it seemed.

He touched Bronwen's face in an almost fatherly way. "Do not be afraid, I am not angry with you. I know that you love her well. As we all share in the many joys of life here, so too will we share in this."

Bronwen was amazed, at his ease at what he had just witnessed, and at the sight of him. He was enormous. Until tonight, Bronwen had been chaste, and her head began to spin, her body unused to such diversion of energies. Before her knees could buckle she did as he had whispered to her, and sat on the grass bewildered, until Celeborn placed Galadriel lovingly in Bronwen's lap, and smiled. Bronwen was swept away by desire again, and fear began to diminish, her back against the trunk of a tree, she leaned back, all misgivings gone and began to massage Galadriel's breasts, kissing her neck as Celeborn entered her. Galadriel wound her fingers in Bronwen's hair, moaning deeply as Celeborn thrust into her from above, arching up to meet him, her nipples hard and smooth as stones polished a thousand years on the bottom of the river bed.

Bronwen could feel the flexing and tensing of muscle against her abdomen as Galadriel was brought to orgasm again and again. Bronwen watched, captivated, as he moved in and out of her, glistening with the juices of her love.

The sounds Galadriel made were the most erotic Bronwen had ever heard, far past anything she had imagined, deep lusty moans, whispered pleas. Bronwen's fingers of their own accord found their way down, massaging that sweetest of places, until Galadriel shrieked in absolute ecstacy, the entire force of her body clamping down on Celeborn's rigid cock, trapping him inside her. The look on his face was heavenly to behold as he emptied himself into her until her thighs were milky with his love and she was shaking and speechless.

Galadriel lay against her, limp with pleasure, and Bronwen turned the Lady's face to her own and kissed her deeply, feeling without seeing Celeborn watching and growing aroused again by the sight. Galadriel's breathing slowed again, and she lay content in Bronwen's arms. Bronwen fondled her until Celeborn spoke.

"Take her place."

"Go on," Galadriel urged. "Do not be afraid. I know that you love me. Let him do to you what he did to me. Then I may feel it the way you did."

Bronwen began to feel like the sacrificial lamb suddenly, afraid to admit she would happily switch places. Afraid, because she was a maiden.

"I will be near, it is all right. I know you want it as much as I did. Celeborn is magnificent, as you will soon find out." She stood up, smiling playfully.

"She is a virgin Celeborn, take care with her," said Galadriel sharply. She was a paradox, sweet and kind in one moment, cold and commanding in the next. Celeborn smiled knowingly, for he loved this in her as well as Bronwen did.

"Tis the greatest of all pleasures to taste the fruit at the height of ripening," said Celeborn to Bronwen. He seized her wrist, pulling her closer. "I will not hurt you, though you may beg me to, before it is over." His eyes flashed, and Bronwen felt a cold jolt, her nipples growing hard again.

"There may be fear in your voice, and your eyes, but your body demands, and so does mine." Roughly he pushed her head down, ordering her without saying a word.

She began to ache as she sucked him. She had little skill, but learned quickly, and he had little patience, knowing he was about to take her innocence. He placed her in Galadriel's lap, the same way he had placed the Lady in hers. He looked more enormous than ever, and she tensed. Galadriel whispered words of encouragment, urging her to relax, telling her how it would feel once the pain was over, touching her until she could not help but want it and heard herself begging, as if the words came from someone else.

Bronwen closed her eyes, feeling Galadriel's warmth from behind as he began to move into her slowly, his own needs evident in his rapid breathing. He was gentle until his wanting was too great, and he grew more forceful, Bronwen both welcoming him and recoiling from him, the sweet droning of Galadriel's voice in her ear driving her to madness. She bit her lip, and with one thrust she felt her maidenhead breaking and the warm rush of blood, and was completely filled by him. A single tear coursed down her cheek, and she felt his kiss, very different from Galadriel's though no less urgent or sweet. His movements became slow and steady, and pain ebbed away until only want remained, until she begged him to hold back nothing and give her what he had given Galadriel, and he did, until she was past any hope of words and could only moan like an animal in rut, and Galadriel's hands burned on her skin while he thrust into her until the world shifted on its axis and she was pushed over the edge of a waterfall and exploded in a shower of stars. She knew not how much time passed as she lay against Galadriel, a tendril of her golden hair wound around Bronwen's forefinger. Celeborn groaned softly, and Galadriel laughed in a throaty way.

"Now we are one," she whispered.

"I love you," Bronwen whispered back, wrapping the Lady in her arms. Galadriel lay back, and let the two of them worship her together.

* * *


End file.
